Beneath Watchful Eyes
by Morganeth Taren'drel
Summary: There's a fine line to walk when you're a hunter and still in the school system. Dean finds himself in a potentially dangerous situation after he's wounded on a hunt.
1. Beneath Watchful Eyes

**AN**: I don't really know why I'm writing this story. The idea struck me and just didn't want to let go. It's another Hurt/Comfort, so I'm not really sure what sort of a point it'll have. I hope if you read it, that you'll enjoy it.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters for Supernatural

**Beneath Watchful Eyes**

Fifteen year-old Dean made his way into the class room trying to move normally, despite his four bruised or cracked ribs, and the deep lacerations down his shoulder and near the top of his thigh. The hunt had been a success in his eyes, Sam was still learning all the ins and outs of hunting; and as always Dean was his guardian. He could rest easy at night knowing Sammy was safe and in one piece.

It was Dean's luck that they'd killed the demon Friday night; it had given his body some time too heal. But it wasn't enough; he had to be extra aware now, his teachers were observant. They'd nearly caught an injury on more than one occasion, but Dean had always had an easy explanation. He didn't think this time would be so easy.

Easing himself down behind his desk Dean slid his backpack under his chair, and breathed a sigh of relief. No position was really 'comfortable' but this wasn't the first time Dean had bruised ribs. A high pain tolerance his dad had told him, something that ran in the family. Dean had no idea if Sam shared in this trait, and was in absolutely no rush to find out.

The rest of the classroom filled in around Dean as the second bell rang, he greeted several of the students he'd come to know. Dean didn't have any problems making friends, they gravitated towards him; but he'd never let them in. Besides they never stayed in one place all that long.

Pulling out his books, Dean opened his math book and quickly hid one of his research books partially beneath it. Multitasking in class had never been a problem for Dean, besides he found most common lessons boring. Studying the supernatural was far more interesting and considering the life his family led; it was just a bit more important.

"Rough weekend?"

Dean looked up to see Ms Taylor standing in front of his desk, "What?" he asked subtly covering his research with his math text.

Ms Taylor smiled, in that oh so very concerned way, "Looks like you had a rough weekend."

"Pulled an all nighter," Dean replied easily offering her his most disarming smile.

"Try not to make a habit of that," she quipped with another smile, before making her way to the head of the room.

School was considered a safe haven to some, a chance to get away from their homes, parents, and the problems that came with those. For Sam and Dean it was a mine field of Social Service traps. They'd already dodged several attempts from the government to remove them from the care of their Dad. Sammy sometimes complained that he wanted a different life, but that in no way meant he wanted to be put in foster care.

Dean silently worked on his math during the class, taking time to continue his research, in between questions. They'd already tracked down another hunt not far from the town, and Dean wanted to help his dad as much as he could.

It was his last class of the day, and Dean was beginning to tire. He'd taken something for the pain at breakfast, but the relief only lasted so long. The class came to an end without incident but Dean remained in his seat to finish reading the lore of a fire spirit.

"Dean?" Ms Taylor's voice broke through his thoughts.

The young Winchester looked up from his work, surprised to see the classroom was empty; he quickly began gathering his books. "Sorry," he muttered.

"It's alright," she said taking a seat on the desk beside him. "Are you feeling alright?"

Dean slipped his last book away before looking up in surprise, "Fine why?"

Ms Taylor watched him for a moment arms folding loosely across her chest, "You look like you in pain."

"Just a headache from lack of sleep," Dean covered quickly biting the inside of his cheek when he moved to get up. His ribs screamed at him, but he swallowed it back and forced a smile on his face when looked up at his teacher.

She continued to study him, a friendly smile on his face. Dean recognized the looked for what it really was.

Swinging his backpack onto his shoulder Dean turned to face his teacher, "I need to go pick up my brother." Turning to leave Ms Taylor's hands suddenly reached out to stop him. Dean moved to dodger her touch hitting his desk hard against his hip.

"Dean you're bleeding," Ms Taylor said worriedly.

Dean glanced down at his shoulder to see his blood seeping through his shirt; he cursed under his breath -_must have pulled the stitches_- Dean thought angrily. Now he had problems, looking up at his teachers Dean forced a reassuring smile on his face. "It's nothing, just a cat scratch," he was a long shot but he said it while walking towards the door remaining calm.

"It looks like more than that Dean," his teacher countered stepping in front of him, "What happened?"

"I already told you," he said with a sigh, shifting his backpack further on his shoulder despite the pain. Had Sammy not been going to school himself Dean might have remained home, but there was not way he was going to leave his brother unprotected.

Ms Taylor cocked her head to the side, "That's a lot of blood for a cat scratch Dean." She pointed out her left hand reached out for his shoulder, "I want the nurse to take a look at you."

"I don't need the nurse," Dean's eyes narrowed, "I need to get my brother."

"C'mon I'll have Sam brought to the nurses office, you've got me worried Dean," she told him sincerely.

"I'm fine," he shrugged her had off as they walked from the room. Dean briefly considered bolting, but if he tore the stitches in his thigh that would only make matters worse.

"I'd like to call your father, is he home?" Ms Taylor asked ignoring Dean's comment.

"No, he's working," Dean replied coming to a stop outside the nurses office.

Ms Taylor opened the door to usher him inside. Dean swallowed a frustrated breath telling himself behaving might smooth this out better than running. They walked into the main office, and Dean's math teacher picked up the phone. "Could you have Samuel Winchester brought to the nurse's office right away," there was a pause as Ms Taylor offered him a smile, "Thank you."

"The vice principal will bring Sam here himself, so let the nurse take a look at you." Dean didn't bother trying hide the frustrated roll of his eyes or sigh.

"Lana, what are you doing here?" a motherly voice asked as the school nurse came out of the exam room.

Dean stepped back towards the door, but his teacher turned towards him, "Well Karen, Dean here's bleeding, says it's from a cat scratch," Lana informed.

Karen stepped towards Dean eyes on his shoulder, "When did this happen?" she asked.

"On the weekend," Dean muttered not comfortable under the attention.

"Come on in Dean," the nurse said placing a guiding hand on Dean's shoulder to lead him into the exam room. She took his backpack off his shoulder motioning for him to sit on the bed.

"I'll wait for Sam Dean," Lana assured, "I'll bring him in right away."

Dean nodded mutely watching the nurse suspiciously.

When the door closed Karen offered him what he thought was supposed to be a comforting smile. "Can I take a look at your shoulder Dean?"

"I told Ms Taylor its fine," he said with a sigh.

"I know, but it could get infected," she said taking a seat on the stool in front of him.

Not wanting to be babied or to prolong this any longer than necessary, Dean unbuttoned the front of his shirt--grateful for the moment that he had a tank top underneath to conceal all the bruising--letting the nurse slip it off his shoulder. His dad's stitches were a neat even row, only one had torn because of Dean's movement.

"My goodness what happened?" Karen gasped eyes looking from Dean's shoulder to his eyes.

"I already told you," Dean grumbled.

She looked him in the eye, some sort of understanding concern he'd caught glimpses of before, "You and I know, this wasn't done by a cat."

"Can I just have some gauze and tape?" he asked rather bluntly. He'd let his father look at it later but Dean didn't think it would need to be re-stitched.

Nurse Karen began gathering supplies but wasn't about to drop the subject, "I've seen children come in here with bruises, cuts, and the occasional broken bone. But this looks like it was done with a knife."

Dean opened his mouth the reply when the door opened, "Dean!" Sam cried in relief rushing over to his brother arms wrapping carefully around Dean's waist. "Are you going to be alright?" he asked worriedly large eyes looking at Dean before shifting to the nurse.

"You're brother's going to be just fine," Karen assured carefully cleaning the blood away from Dean's shoulder. "Do you know what happened to your brother?" she asked pouring antiseptic onto a square of gauze, "Can you tell me what happened?"

Sam immediately nodded his head, and Dean winced both from the pain in his shoulder and the fear of what Sam might say. They'd run into a few problems with Sam's proud honestly, but he was getting better at deciding what should and should not be said. "We were playing, and Dean fell onto the table..." he trailed off for a moment looking earnestly at the nurse. "That's how he got hurt," Dean was amazed at the honestly Sammy could convey, he could almost see the accident happening himself.

Karen finished patching Dean up, her blue eyes flickering between the two of them, "Why didn't you just tell me that from the beginning?"

"Because it wasn't a big deal," he replied rolling his eyes.

"You boys should be more careful," Karen admonished finishing fixing the dressing over Dean's shoulder.

"Yes ma'am," Sam said seriously.

"Can I go now?" Dean asked pulling his shirt back over his shoulder.

The nurse hesitated for a moment, "I'd really prefer your father come pick you up."

"He works late," Dean shrugged the matter aside getting to his feet, Sammy quickly grabbed up Dean's backpack. "C'mon Sammy," Dean said ruffling his brother's hair.

Sam swatted the hand away, "Can we have macaroni tonight?" he asked happily.

The older Winchester breathed a sigh of relief as he walked from the nurse's office. It really had been too close of a call, and reasonable explanations or not Dean had a feeling they'd be moving again soon. And left behind here his name would be added to another invisible list of abused children lost in the system. He wanted to tell them how wrong they were but Dean knew there was no way he could make them believe.

He had to follow the rules of this world, while trying to help his dad fight a war raging beneath the surface. Crossover was bound to happen, but if possible avoided at all costs.

"Are you okay Dean?" Sam asked worry thick in his voice.

Dean smiled down at his brother, "Just fine."

Thanks for Reading

Morganeth Taren'drel


	2. Beneath Watchful Eyes 2

**AN**: Alright so I lied, it won't just be one more chapter, I was only planning on writing one more, but then this one just seemed to end for me and I'll go with the flow. I hope you enjoy the continuation of this story.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Beneath Watchful Eyes 2**

Dean pulled the motel key out of his pocket and slipped it into the lock. He hadn't been surprised to see that the Impala wasn't in the parking lot. They weren't expecting their dad to be home until well after the sun set. Sammy pushed passed him, eagerly plopping down on one bed and pulling out the TV remote. Sliding the deadbolt into place Dean heard the unmistakable sound of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

"What about your homework?" Dean asked shrugging his backpack down beside the bed.

Sam appearing disgruntled, "You said I could stay up late."

"Right," he nodded stepping in front of his brother, "What do you want for dinner?"

"Macaroni!" Sam cheered immediately.

Dean gave a halfhearted sigh; he'd hoped Sam had forgotten that, "Didn't we have that last night?"

"You asked," Sam pointed out happily now lying on the motel bed shoes kicked off, legs swaying back and forth as he watched the cartoon.

"Right..." he didn't really mind, the meal was easy enough to make, and he liked it as much as Sam. Stepping into the small kitchenette Dean reached to open up the cupboard door wincing when he felt the movement pull at his stitches. His hand had just reached for the box of macaroni when someone knocked on the motel door.

Dean turned sharply at the sound, seeing his brother sit up at attention, sending Dean a concerned look. Motioning for Sammy to remain quiet Dean stepped over to the door just as the stranger knocked again. Glancing through the peep hole Dean didn't like what he saw. A woman in a suit stood on the other side; with two men at her back at least one of them was a cop.

"Sam, put your shoes on," Dean hissed under his breath.

"Mr. Winchester?" the woman called out rapping on the thin door yet again. "My name is Samantha Rose, I'm with Child Protective Services. I need to speak with you, about your son Dean."

"Dean?" Sam's voice was a concerned whisper.

"Put on your coat Sammy," he instructed stepping away from the door to pick up his own discarded jacket.

The woman knocked yet again, her muffled voice slipping through the old door. Dean couldn't make out what she was saying, but it didn't matter he had a fair idea what was going to come next. Dropping down on his knees at the foot of the bed sent a wave of pain up through Dean's chest; he swallowed it back pulling the duffel out from under and slung it over his shoulder.

"C'mon," he said standing, just as a key slipping into the lock. Sam was ahead of him opening the window at the back of the bathroom. Dean closed the bathroom door behind them just catching the sound of the deadbolts chain jerking when he secured the flimsy lock.

"What's going on Dean?" Sam asked already working at climbing through the window.

Dean shook his head, helping his brother before passing the duffel through, "Must have been the school nurse." It didn't really matter who had made the call, despite Sam's reasonable explanation Dean wasn't surprised the adults had feared the worst.

Once outside Dean took the duffel back from his brother, and took the lead through the empty lot behind the motel. They always prepared for these possible situations, "Let's pick up the pace," Dean said pushing himself into a jog. He didn't know how much time they'd have to get ahead; he knew the first few minutes were critical. The net would only begin to tighten once Social Services realized they were gone.

Cutting through a back alley Dean forced his brother to come to a stop, as he both checked for anyone suspicious, and tried to catch his breath. Running with broken ribs was never a pleasant experience, but his dad had taught him to be tough to work through the pain.

"Dean," Sam's voice cut through the pain, and he looked down to his brother's worried gaze.

"It's alright," he tried to assure, glancing back over his shoulder before looking ahead. "Remember what dad said," Dean hefted the duffel. It wasn't a lot but it was supplies enough to see them through until their dad came.

Sam nodded; "I remember how to get there!" his proud smile only looked a little forced as a cold rain began to fall heavily around them.

"Good, lead the way," Dean said pulling his coat tightly around his neck as they started down the street. Dean had to fight the urge to glance back over his shoulder every couple of minutes. Every time they ended up in a town for more than a couple of nights, dad had always picked out a secondary spot they were to hide in if problems came up. This wasn't the first time they'd caught the attention of Child Protective Services, it was however the first time their dad wasn't there when they came.

Cutting across a parking lot Dean could see the old factory, and he nudged his brother picking up the pace. He heard the squeal of tires behind him and broke into a run. Sam was pulling ahead slipping behind a dumpster which was half blocking a small alley. A shout from behind confirmed that they'd been found, sending a much needed burst of adrenalin through Dean's body.

"Keep going," Dean encouraged wet sneakers slipping on the slick ground. Blinking away the water from his eyes Dean swore. Even if they made it to the factory the men following them would know where they went and a search of the area wouldn't take near long enough.

"Dean!" Sam cried out in fear.

"Hold it right there," an unfamiliar voice called out from behind Dean.

"Let me go!" Sam shouted angrily, "Dean!"

"Sam!" he shouted racing to his brother's aid. He was jerked to a halt, when the man behind him took hold of his duffel. Dean fell hard to his knees pulled off balance by the sudden stop. Breath was knocked from his lungs when the strap across his chest pulled taunt across his wounded ribs.

"Easy there," the man said taking a better hold of Dean's body as he struggled to regain his breath.

"Dean!"

The sound of Sam's panicked voice cut through the fog surrounding Dean, and he looked up through the rain to see his little brother still fighting hard. "Sammy!" he called his voice breaking as he was dragged to his feet. "It's alright," that was a lie but there was nothing they could do right now, they'd need to conserve their strength.

"Dean?" Sam's voice was unsure, sounding on the verge of tears.

"We're not going to hurt you!" the man holding Sam assured so both could hear.

"We're here to help," the one behind Dean said.

Dean twisted in the man's arms, "I don't recall asking for help."

"C'mon," the man said directing Dean back down the alley.

"What's the charge?" Dean demanded putting on the breaks.

The man looked down at him, but didn't appear to be in a hurry to answer, "Let's go."

"Leave me alone!" Dean tried to shrug the man's hand off, probably could have escaped the man. But one glace over his shoulder stopped him; Sam was not four steps behind head down shoulder tightly held by the other man. He wasn't going to leave his brother behind, ever!

Samantha Rose stood next to a large black van, umbrella shielding her for the driving rain. The look on her face reminded Dean of one of pity and he glared darkly at her, there was nothing about his life that should be pitied. "Dean Winchester," she greeted offering him a tiny smile. "You're school nurse was worried about you."

"I told her I was fine," Dean bit out.

"Still I'd like to talk to your father," Samantha said stretching the umbrella out towards Dean as he man holding his shoulder opening the sliding door on the van.

"He's at work."

"Do you know how to get a hold of him?" she asked as Dean climbed reluctantly into the back of the van.

"Why?" Dean shot back reaching out a cold hand to Sammy as he was helped inside the vehicle.

The men closed in around them one taking the wheel while the other sat in the middle. "We need to tell him to meet us at the hospital," the social worker explained pulling the passenger's door closed.

"Dean?" Sam asked worriedly voice barely above a whisper.

"S'okay," he assured hand moving to his brother's knee, while his attention remained on Samantha. "I'm fifteen years old, old enough to look after both of us; you've got no right taking us anywhere we don't want to go!"

Samantha offered him a tiny smile, "That's not why we're here Dean; we just need to be sure that you're alright."

"I'm alright!" he stressed each word, but already knew that it wouldn't make any difference.

"Is this my fault?" Sam asked into Dean's ear.

The older Winchester shook his head; he'd thought Sam's answer for the stitches had been a good one. But neither of them could help it if the teachers were getting more suspicious. One thing was for sure, dad wasn't going to be happy.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


	3. Beneath Watchful Eyes 3

**AN**: I'm really surprised and pleased at the popularity of this story, I honestly wasn't expecting it to catch this much attention. BTW I love 's new reader traffic option; I'm amazed at all the different countries my readers are from.

With this chapter I felt the need to consult with people more in the know than I am about CPS, and I discovered that this story isn't as true to real life as I usually like it to be. But since the first two chapters were already posted I felt that I should stick with what I have, rather than make changes now. I did contemplate re-writing the chapters I'd posted, but since none of you complained about anything I decided against it. The information I have has given me something to think about if I ever choose to write other stories along this line.

I want to thank you all for you support! The number of you that have added myself or this story to your Alerts/Favorites has left me stunned. I hope you enjoy this last chapter as much as the rest!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

**Beneath Watchful Eyes 3**

"What do we do now?" Sam asked whispering directly into Dean's ear.

He shook his head not taking his eyes off the front of the van where the CPS agent kept glancing back at them. There wasn't much they could do, Dean was on high alert looking for a way to escape but surrounded pinned in the back of a van didn't leave them with any options. He wanted to fight it out every step of the way, but knew the more difficult he made things the less likely they'd be to get an opening to escape.

"Daddy's going to be mad..." Sam said head down just as the van was pulling into the hospital parking lot.

"Not at you," Dean assured squeezing his brother's knee, "Just follow my lead okay?"

Sammy nodded his head, "Okay."

The van came to a stop close to the emergency room doors, and Samantha looked back over her shoulder at them. "C'mon boys," she urged opening the passenger's side door. The man who'd grabbed Dean got out and reached back for Sam who knocked the man's hand away before moving for the door.

Dean smirked to himself as he followed behind, the rain had lightened up a little but it didn't matter Dean's shirt was already soaked through. They were ushered inside the officers walking on either side while Samantha Rose led the way. Dean watched warily as she made a stop at the nurses station, the woman behind the counter came around to lead them deeper into the hospital.

The nurse opened one of the exam room doors, both she and the CPS agent stood to either side waiting for Dean and Sam to enter first. Offering his brother a slight nodded Dean moved to walk forward but was halted when one of the officers took hold of his duffel. Dean's grip tightened as he glared up at the older man. There wasn't anything dangerous for someone 'normal' to see, but Dean wasn't about to give up what might be their only means of escape.

"It's alright Ryan," Agent Rose said, which surprised Dean, "Let him keep the bag."

The officer nodded and Dean followed his brother into the empty exam room, no windows but there was a second door which could either lead back out into the hall or just into a closet. Escape didn't look all that promising at the moment.

"Could you get some warm blankets and something dry for the boys to wear?" Dean heard Samantha ask the nurse before the door closed. "We don't need either of you catching a cold," the agent said, as she took at seat in the free office chair.

"We can take care of ourselves," Dean told her bluntly placing the duffel on the exam table and unzipped it.

"I can see that," she commented watching him intently. "Was it you father who told you to run if we ever came?"

Dean rolled his eyes as he pulled out a warm sweatshirt for Sammy to wear, "Aren't all kids taught never to open the door for strangers?" he returned tone dry as he helped Sammy out of his wet coat and shirt. For his part Sam was just silently watching the exchange sitting on the edge of his seat.

"I haven't come across all that many with bags packed ready to jump out the bathroom window."

He knew it looked suspicious, there was no helping that. But their situation was far from normal, they walked a careful line most days, and Dean could have kicked himself for tearing his stitches which started all this.

"Dean," Samantha's voice was low attempting at comforting he thought. "I'm not the enemy here."

"Could've fooled me," Dean told her dryly, as he glanced around his surroundings. "May not be a prison but I sure feel like I'm being held against my will, what about you Sam?" he asked while resting a reassuring hand on his brother's shoulder.

Sammy nodded his head, "I want to go home."

"You want this to be over quickly, let me know how to get a hold of your father," Samantha attempted.

"Shouldn't you already know that?" Dean returned beginning to unbutton his sodden jacket.

"No matter what's happened Dean, I need to speak to your father, he has some questions to answer." The door next to Samantha opened as the nurse stepped inside with gray blankets in hand.

"Dad hasn't done anything wrong!" Dean said firmly glaring daggers at both the agent and nurse.

The nurse cleared her throat, "Dr. Hensen will be with you soon," she informed passing the blankets to Samantha before closing the door again.

"Here Samuel," Samantha said passing the younger Winchester one of the blankets. Sam accepted it with a distrustful look on his face.

Dean unbuttoned his shirt not entirely sure he wanted to take it off, despite cold that had already seeped into his skin from the wet material. "So do you investigate every incident of rough housing?" he asked tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Your teacher didn't seem to think that was the case," was the immediate reply, and it made Dean see red.

"Why?" he demanded turning to face her, "Because kids in 'abusive' situations lie?" he shook his head, it was a no win situation for him. Samantha opened her mouth to speak but Dean pressed on, "Where's Todd? Rugby accident had stitches; he pulled them a few days ago."

The agent sighed, "Dean your teacher has been watching you for a while, and she's had more than enough reasons to be concerned." It was a blanket response something Dean wasn't surprised to hear, he didn't actually expect her to accept his arguments, that wasn't what she was paid for.

The door opened suddenly as an older man in a white lab coat stepped into the room, with a clipboard in hand. "Sorry to keep you waiting," he said directing his attention to the CPS agent.

"Not at all Dr. Hensen," she replied with a smile, "I'd like you to meet Dean and Samuel Winchester."

He turned his full attention on them, with a friendly smile; Dean supposed he was what a grandfather looked like though he felt no warmth towards the man. "I'm Dr. Hensen," he introduced offering his hand but Dean just looked at it before returning his eyes to the man's face. The doctor seemed completely unfazed by Dean's cold response, "You can call me Tom."

"What seems to be the problem?" it sounded as though he was simply asking in general, so Dean decided to answer.

"It 'seems' like people are confused," he said bitterly. Samantha offered the doctor a sympathetic look, which only caused Dean's frustration to rise, "I'm not being abused!" He didn't know how much more plainly he could say it.

"Dr. Hensen, standard procedure, I want a full examination," she said completely ignoring Dean.

From behind, Dean felt Sam's hand take hold of his shirt; they both knew the likely hood of their story holding up to an examination weren't promising. But Dean would be damned if he was going to let these 'adults' walk all over him.

The doctor nodded his head, but stepped towards the door, "Would you mind giving us some privacy?" he asked opening the door to let agent Rose out. The CPS agent cast one last look in Dean's direction before nodding and leaving the room.

Dr. Hensen turned back towards them pulling a stool to him with his left foot before taking a seat on it, which brought him, closer to Dean's eye level. "So," he began tone light, "Are you boys alright?"

"Yes," Dean replied firmly, "Not that you'll believe me," he added in a low mutter.

"Will you at least give me a chance?" Tom asked with an encouraging smile.

Dean just watched the man suspiciously not about to agree with anything.

"You must be freezing," he said clearly not bothered by Dean's silence as he slid his stool across the floor to the thermostat and adjusted the temperature. He came back over and took hold of the second blanket, "Why don't you take off that wet shirt?"

He considered the suggestion for a moment, the blood on his shirt though wet was still obvious. Still he hesitated to do anything that the doctor asked him too.

"So Samuel is it?" he asked the youngest Winchester. For his part Sammy cast Dean a questioning look before mutely nodding his head.

Dr. Hensen smiled, "How old are you Samuel?"

Again Sammy looked to Dean first, but the older Winchester nodded his approval as he finished unbuttoning his shirt and slid it from his shoulders. "Eleven," he said hugging the warm blanket closer around him.

"Do you and your brother rough house a lot?" he asked then, blue eyes flickering between Sam and Dean, though they lingered on the bloody gauze tapped to Dean's shoulder.

Sammy just shrugged.

But it didn't matter Dr. Hensen's attention was back on Dean, "How'd this happen?" Tom asked pointing at the line of stitches.

"Why are you asking me?" Dean demanded taking a step back from the doctor, but found his back pressed against the exam table. The doctor looked somewhat taken aback by Dean's tone, "Doesn't your clipboard already say abuse?"

"No," Tom said placing the clipboard on the edge of the table, "Should it?"

Dean raised a skeptical eyebrow, "Would you believe me if I said no?"

"Let me put it to you this way, I don't want to make judgments either way not without proof."

He sounded honest, but Dean didn't believe it. In the past adults had accepted Dean's answers for previous injuries, but they'd always made judgments. That's where the problems kept coming from, and he wasn't eager to help this doctor make his decision.

The silence in the room stretched on for several minutes as the doctor's blue eyes studied Dean intently. "Can I take a look at it?" he requested finally, shifting the stool along the tiled floor.

"Sure," Dean deadpanned but stepped away the minute Dr. Hensen's hands reached for him, "You already are."

Tom sighed, resting hands on his knees, "Can you tell me how you tore your stitches?"

"Putting my backpack on?" Dean shrugged; he hadn't even noticed doing it at the time.

"And you cut your shoulder breaking a table?" Dr. Hensen clarified glancing at the clipboard to his right. Dean merely nodded his head, "But you told your teacher it was a cat scratch?" it sounded as though he was trying to understand.

Dean felt as though he was being pulled into a trap, "I didn't need her to worry."

"Did you have these stitches done here?" he inquired pulling a pen from his breast pocket.

"No," Dean drew a breath; he was going to have to be careful here, "Small clinic north of town."

The pen scribbled across the paper, "Looks like he did a fine job, can I take a look at the one you tore?"

Dean was a little surprised that the doctor didn't call for more information, like the name of the clinic, the doctor who helped, why they'd gone there in the first place? Instead he patted the edge of the exam table and nudged the step stool a little closer to Dean's legs a none too subtle request that's where he wanted Dean to be.

At the moment Dean was grateful to the fact that he hadn't gone home and immediately taken something for the pain. They had precious few of those pills, and he'd made a habit of saving them for the longest parts of the day, besides that they had a tendency to slow his reaction time, both physically and mentally. And he needed to be on top of his game.

The doctor was more patient that Dean had expected him to be, he was still waiting for Dean to climb up onto the exam table. The expression on his face made it clear he was willing to wait as long as it took. Casting a quick glance at his brother, Dean sighed; there'd be no escaping with the doctor in the room.

With a good deal of reluctance Dean got onto the exam table, expression darkening at the smile he was given. Dr. Hensen raised a hand towards Dean's shoulder, "On the count of three I'm going to pull the bandage off okay?"

Dean didn't bother responding; knowing it always hurt less if the band aid was removed quickly. Despite that Dean's shoulder jerked back away from the pain, Tom reached out his right hand to steady him. "This doesn't look too bad," the doctor commented with a friendly tone, "You shouldn't even have much of a scar."

"Can I go now?" Dean asked impatiently, hazel eyes watching the doctor's hands.

"No, not yet," Tom said, and he almost sounded apologetic before his attention shifted to pulling some supplies from one of the cupboards.

Dean shifted on the edge of the table fighting the urge the support his chest with one of his arms. All he really wanted to do was lay down and take the pressure off, he forced himself to straighten as Dr. Hensen turned back towards him. Everything he needed to clean and re-patch Dean's shoulder was laid out on a small metal table.

A surprisingly loud grumble brought the doctor to a halt as he turned his attention towards Sam who was blushing with embarrassment, "You boys haven't had dinner yet have you?" he asked offering Sammy an understanding smile.

"We were about to, when the Gestapo showed up," Dean muttered moving towards the duffel which was further down the table.

"Now hold on there," Tom reprimanded moving to stop Dean.

The young hunter flinched away from the touch, hoping his wince of pain wasn't too obvious as the doctor brought the bag up beside Dean. He reached into the still opened bag, not wanting the doctor to get a look inside. The last thing he needed was to try and explain the bottle of holy water and box of salt hidden on the bottom. Pulling out a couple of granola bars for Sam, Dean carefully tossed them over before his attention returned to Dr. Hensen.

"Your father didn't happen to be a Boy Scout did he?"

Dean shook his head, breathing shallowly, "Marine." He didn't like volunteering information, but there wasn't much the doctor could do with that knowledge.

"Close enough," he smiled as he finished applying the bandage to Dean's shoulder. "You know, by running people might think you have something to hide…" Tom commented blue eyes looking directly into Dean's.

"How about, we can take care of ourselves?" Dean returned not liking the slight strain to his voice.

Tom was studying him intently, "There's a lot of us out there that don't think children as young as you should have to take care of themselves." He took hold of Dean's wrist fingers pressing in tightly as the doctor looked down at his wrist watch. "Do you have any other injuries?" he asked then looking back up.

"Would you believe me if I said no?" he asked not bothering to muster up any sarcasm.

"I'd like to," Dr. Hensen said honestly, "But I've been doing this for a long time Dean," he continued eyes piercing Dean where he sat. "I know when someone's in pain."

Dean reacted quickly, "My shoulder really aches," he tried honesty, wishing he had Sam's gift for making it so real.

The Doctor nodded in what Dean thought was understanding, "Lift up your shirt," he said motioning with his left hand.

"Why?" he asked in an attempt to prolong the inevitable.

"Because I think you're hiding something Dean," Tom replied easily, tone non-threatening.

He sat a little straighter, only after realizing that might have just confirmed the doctor's suspicions. "I'm fine, you said you wanted to believe me," Dean threw out in a last ditch effort if they found cracked or broken ribs it would only make everything worse. "You patched up my arm, we're both good, we just want to go home," Dean hoped his voice didn't sound too frantic, he was really grasping at straws here.

"Dean," the doctor began when someone knocked on the door.

Agent Rose poked her head in, "Dr. Hensen can we speak to you outside please?"

Dean watched the door close behind them and quickly got off the exam table, gasping for breath then his feet hit the ground. Sammy was out of his chair in an instant, "What's going on Dean?" he asked worriedly.

"I don't know," he said reaching into the duffel for his own warm shit and quickly pulled it on over his shoulder. It didn't really matter what they were talking about outside, this could be the only chance they had to slip away. "C'mon," Dean took Sam's hand and went for the second door, testing the handle, not surprised to see that it was locked.

Dropping the duffel off his shoulder Dean knelt beside it and quickly fished out the lock picking tools his dad had got him as a birthday present the other year. He was just beginning to maneuver the pins when he heard the other door open again, "Alright boys," a new voice said, and Dean quickly slipped the tools out of sight.

Dean looked suspiciously at the newcomer, pushing Sam behind him. The man was older, hair almost completely grey, and he proudly wore his badge on the front of his dark blue suit. He offered Dean and Sam a small smile, "I'm Commissioner Riven, you're going to come with me now."

-_Riven_- Dean repeated the name in his head several times, it sounded very familiar. "You're Dad's waiting," he coaxed quietly, and it suddenly hit Dean, a wave of relief washing over him. The family they'd helped over the weekend had been the Riven's; squeezing Sammy's hand reassuringly Dean stepped towards the man.

He led them out of the exam room, Dean glanced briefly at the doctor, and the CPS agent, neither looked thrilled with what was happening. But to Dean's relief they didn't move forward to stop them. They took a direct path out of the hospital to the visitor's parking lot; Sammy released his hand the minute they were out the door, running a head to where their dad waited leaning against the Impala.

"Thanks Jake," John said taking the Commissioner's hand, his left arm wrapped tightly around Sam's shoulders.

"I'm the one who should be thanking you," Jake replied with a shake of his head, "If it weren't for you, I'd have lost my granddaughter for good."

"How're you doing Ace?"

Dean felt a blush creep into his cheeks, "I'm alright."

John scratched at his cheek, "So, what about all this?"

"It'll take a bit too smooth things out," the Commissioner commented glancing back over his shoulder at the hospital. "I'll do what I can to help you slip back under the radar."

"All the same I doubt we'll be around much longer," John reached out his free hand and dropped it on Dean's head.

"Well thanks again."

John nodded, accepting the man's hand one last time before turning back to the Impala, "Let's go boys." Dean sighed in relief climbing into the front seat of their car and relaxed back as best he could.

"That was too close," he breathed as his dad started the engine.

"You did fine Ace," John assured, resting his hand on the side of Dean's neck, as they drove away from the hospital.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


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